Acceptance of Age
by queensmooting
Summary: Riza wonders how much longer they will keep their marriage quiet when they accompany each other to President Armstrong's inauguration. Post-canon, secret marriage AU.


originally posted on ao3 on november 14, 2015. in this au roy remains blind.

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After decades in the military, which had finally resulted in a promotion to major, Riza was well-accustomed to early rising. She had seen wars come and leaders go, and was now poised to see the rise of a new democracy. Nevertheless, the hour required of her for president-elect Armstrong's inauguration was a little much even for her.

Thankfully Black Hayate was always up to a challenge.

Riza wondered if she was still dreaming when two pairs of paws landed heavily on her back, and knew she wasn't when a wet nose nudged its way under her ear.

"Your dog's awake," Roy informed her, hardly above a growl in his half-asleep state. Mercifully the sound of his voice made Hayate move onto him, rolling over and shoving his belly in front of Roy's face.

"I notice he's only my dog before the sun's up," Riza said, receiving the brunt of Hayate's tail wagging in her face. He didn't have all the strength and agility of his old self, but he could still muster some of his youthful fervor for special occasions.

"He's always been your dog," Roy said, not budging.

"Like you don't love him too," she said, a smile pulling at her mouth and giving her the small measure of energy she needed. "Alright, everyone up."

They rose and dressed as the first light began to creep into the apartment, giving Riza a view of the city that she described out loud. Reporting the visual to Roy had become a normal part of their routine, as normal as their routine ever was. Riza learned to detail the things that caught her eye, that made her pause and look for a moment, to take in the world that was changing so rapidly around them, growing young as they grew old.

Those in the military with them used to call her his right hand. Now they called her his eyes.

Hayate, sensing they were off for the day, hopped down from the bed and made his way over for goodbye pets.

"He's starting to look his age," Riza noted, scratching Hayate between the eyes. "Remember that black stripe that goes down toward his nose? It's almost completely white."

"I can hear it in his footsteps," Roy said, reaching out for Hayate, who went to fill the space beneath his hand. "Poor old guy's slowing down."

"We should all be so lucky."

Roy straightened and Hayate shuffled back over to the bed, burrowing himself in the warmth they had left behind.

"How do I look?" Roy asked with the careless ease of his youngest self.

"Put-together," she replied.

"You've always known how to make a man's knees go weak. How do you look?"

By the way his voice changed she could tell this was something he actually wanted answered. "We're off-duty, so my hair's down, but I'm still representing the Amestrian military so I'm wearing the jacket over that one dark blue dress. It matches, so."

She glanced at the mirror, reconsidered. "I've got a few more lines. Around my eyes. You've felt them before, but there's more. Sometimes it's like there's more every day."

"At least half are my fault, I'm sure," Roy said. "You're the reason why I hardly have any."

"Good thing I've got time to fix that," she said, just to make him laugh. "We should go."

They had married two years after the Promised Day, with three witnesses. They had been through too much with Havoc to keep him out of the loop, and Roy couldn't not tell his aunt. Hayate was simply expected of Riza's conditions, the deal-breaker Roy never would have dreamed of breaking.

They kept it a secret out of obligation to their job, but it seemed everyone she expected was fraternizing within the ranks. Riza caught wind of Ross and Brosh's engagement only a year past, and when she murmured her congratulations in the hall they stammered denials long after she had rounded the corner.

Mostly, Riza liked to think she and Roy were doing a better job of keeping their own relationship quiet. They were well past the age of blushing across meeting tables and stolen moments in supply closets, instances their younger peers were all too guilty of. They were, apparently, not quite at the age where they could avoid slipping each other notes between their budgeting documents, but she was sure that would come with time.

They were discreet, and they had ready-made excuses for anything that would seem unusual. To an onlooker it was natural that they would keep each other close to accomodate for his blindness. Roy had become fluent in raised Amestrian script and could do his job as well as he ever had, but even that didn't keep him from needing a guiding arm in open spaces. Everything they did in the public eye was calculated, explanations and reasons behind any touch, any smile that lingered just a little too long.

In the still hush of the morning, when there was no one else around, Riza thought the arrangement suited them just fine.

The ceremony was being held outside the old parliament building, which would now house a newly-elected senate. The walk was quick and they arrived early, going inside to keep warm before the inauguration began. The halls were decorated with a mix of old and new history, and they were devoid of other people, with everyone else keeping busy outside.

"It's nice to have an excuse to walk with you like this in public," Roy said, giving her arm a tiny squeeze, pulling her minutely closer.

"The reason isn't so nice," she reminded him.

"Do you always have to be so morbid?" His steps slowed, and he asked, "Is anyone around?"

Riza cast a peek over her shoulder, into the corners, and along the skyline, all the places she was trained to see danger.

"No," she said slowly. "But-"

He stopped completely, reaching for her face. His fingers traced a line from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth, then moved his hand so he could press a kiss there, fast and soft.

"Riza."

He had been _Roy_ in her mind years before she ever dared call him by his first name out loud, but she still remembered how it threw her when he first used hers. It sounded like a new name entirely, something belonging to her and foreign at once. It still gave her a thrill to hear him say it, one aspect of their relationship that hadn't faded as a novelty.

"Relax a little, alright?" he murmured, remaining an inch away. "We're not even on the clock, so _technically_ we're allowed to enjoy ourselves."

"Alright," she said, aiming for sternness but certain the smile in her voice would give her away. "But we need to g-"

"Oh for crying out loud."

Riza whirled around to see two people had spotted them. Ling Yao was immediately recognizable in his ceremonial Xingese garb, but it took her a moment longer to place who had spoken, for he had grown much taller since she had last seen him.

"You'll never guess who found us," Riza said.

"Oh, I have one _small_ guess," Roy said quietly.

But not quietly enough.

"Hey now," Ed said. Riza considered it a sign of his maturing that he didn't fly into a tantrum. "I'll have you know I've grown four inches."

"Really?" Roy asked. "I can't tell."

"Har har," Ed said, rolling his eyes. "How many years has he been planning that one, Hawkeye?"

"Hello, Edward," she said, biting her tongue to keep from laughing.

"So what, are you a whole meter tall now?" Ling asked, draping an arm around Ed's shoulders. "Does that make you the full-meter alchemist?"

Roy laughed sharply as Ed turned red with the effort to stay calm.

"Oh that's good," Roy said. "I'm going to remember that one. So you're here too, Emperor?"

"I was just showing him around," Ed said through his teeth. "I think I'm gonna go show him the balcony now."

"Aw, Ed, I didn't mean it…" Ling said in a tone of mock apology as Ed dragged him from the room.

"Don't kill anyone today, Edward," Riza reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah, gotta watch the Ice Queen become the Ice President," Ed said. "Got it. Super to see you both."

"I think I figured it out," Roy said as Ed and Ling disappeared. "If someone suspects us, just turn the tables on them. Maybe have a few good quips ready to go. We can study up."

"It does have a one hundred percent success rate," Riza said dryly, taking his arm again.

Olivier Armstrong took her oath in the heart of Central City, the first to be chosen for leadership by the Amestrian people. She still carried all of the hard honesty that had not been tamed out of her by politics, and the hands that clenched her heirloom sword were tight fists. Riza knew she was best suited for the job.

Even Roy knew it, who didn't mind losing the election. It had been Olivier's idea to initiate a transition toward democracy while Grumman was still in power, and Roy had simply been glad someone had thought of it. Once Riza knew he was not disappointed, she allowed herself to be happy for selfish reasons. If he had won, she would have seen even less of him.

They were kept busy on missions demilitarizing the borders, but their ranks also meant long hours spent behind desks stacked high with paperwork, going over forms and strategies until they could stumble home on tired legs, neither of them carrying the stamina they once had.

No one questioned that they left work in the same direction, that they had for years now. It was understood that Roy needed to ensure he got home safely, assumed that Riza would be the one to guide him.

Toward the end of the long ceremony standing on her feet, Riza was already looking forward to stumbling home again.

Following the inauguration a ball was held, to keep some semblance of tradition amid the enormous political shift. The new president herself stayed deep in conversation with her inner council and shot glares whenever anyone asked for her hand in a dance. What Olivier lacked in providing entertainment the Xingese delegation was happy to make up for, with the emperor himself demonstrating several of his favorite dances. When Ling showed Ed a step that mostly involved flinging him around in wide circles, Riza had to drag Roy out of the way to keep him from getting hit.

At one point Jean borrowed Roy to introduce him to some people, and Riza continued to do her part, making the rounds among the military attendants and giving perfunctory answers to predictable questions when reporters approached her. She wasn't on security detail, but it didn't stop her eyes from sweeping the roof and the outside windows, too accustomed to the split seconds in which things tended to go wrong.

In the years since the Promised Day, she was still getting used to how rarely things went wrong anymore.

Her thoughts were later interrupted when she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Roy. Jean was beside him but quickly rolled away in his chair, wearing a smile that suggested he was in on a secret.

"May I?" Roy asked, holding out his hand.

"May you what?" she asked. Riza figured it out a moment later. "Oh. Oh, I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Everyone's dancing with someone," he pointed out. "Havoc said so. We'll blend right in."

"Not everyone," she mumbled, glancing toward the front of the room where Olivier already appeared to be signing some document.

Riza watched Roy's eyebrows creep up, his expectant smile grow.

"Fine," she sighed, slapping her hand down into his. "One song."

The band just happened to be playing a rather long and slow song at the moment, but Riza didn't feel the need to let him know she was aware of that.

She braced a hand on his shoulder and when he went to take her waist he nearly reached under her jacket rather than over it. He corrected himself instantly, but the slip into their familiarity was still noticeable enough that he felt the need to comment.

"Oops, pardon me," Roy said, then at a slightly louder volume added, "Major."

"We just keep getting worse at keeping this a secret, you know," Riza muttered. " _Sir_."

"Oh, I know," he said. "Make sure I don't fall?"

She took his free hand in hers. "Of course."

All eyes were elsewhere; a veteran general and major had nothing to worry about. They danced in their own corner of the floor, shiftless and close, neither quite following the music and neither caring.

"Stop looking at me like that," Roy said after a minute.

Riza snorted. "Do tell. Like how?"

"You're quiet, but not tense-quiet like you usually are. You're all loose and calm, which is the only time you ever smile. _Really_ smile, not your quick little business smiles. I'll always remember what your real smile looks like, though you never thought I was looking. And now you're blushing, I'm sure." He held a hand up to feel her warming cheek. "Yep."

"Okay, you got me," she said.

"Of course I did." Roy grinned, and in the background Riza heard the tempo shift to something more upbeat. "Now are you gonna let me twirl you or what?"

"I'm leading, aren't I? I should be twirling you."

"Hm."

"Wh-no-"

They managed to avoid knocking limbs into anyone, but Roy insisted on keeping to the new, fast pace, both holding back laughter and holding onto each other for their lives. Eventually Riza forgot to watch her back.

When their joints reminded them of their age, they went outside to the balcony, clear-aired and abandoned but for the two of them.

Roy reached until he could grab the railing, leaned forward to rest his arms against it.

"I can still see the city like this," he said. "Hearing the cars, smelling the smoke, feeling whatever the hell this sticky stuff is on the rail...it puts together a pretty good picture."

Riza joined him at the railing, making sure not to touch it with her hands. "I'm glad."

They were quiet then, the air filling with the intimate silence that had long been comfortable between them.

"It'd be nice to do things like this more often with you," he said after a few minutes. "Public things, you know? For example, I'm dying to just take you out to dinner."

"That would be nice," she agreed. "One day we will."

"Of course, we could just retire," he suggested.

She laughed, so loud and sudden that she clapped a hand over her mouth.

Roy turned his head in her direction, amused. "I'm so glad Truth didn't leave me deaf."

"Why?" she asked, still suppressing rare giggles.

He grinned at her, crooked and fond, and he didn't need to say why.

Riza glanced over her shoulder at the crowd inside, then gave his hand a squeeze, drawing away just as quick.

Retiring certainly would uncomplicate things between them, but it was a concept that escaped her, nonsensical as a dream. The military was all she had ever known, and it was strange to consider herself unbound to that duty, like imagining another life entirely.

"Is it that funny?" Roy asked. "To think of retiring?"

"A little," she admitted.

"It is for me too."

Riza thought of that morning, and of every morning they had spent together since they first moved into the same place. She thought of how warm he was against her on cold days, how Hayate liked to wedge himself between them, how serene and still and small the world seemed in those moments. She thought of those moments lasting a little longer, of sleeping in past the dawn, letting their bones rest and age without strain.

"But maybe we'll figure it out," she said.

Roy smiled, looking pleasantly surprised. This time it was he who took her hand, holding on a moment longer than she had. It wasn't quite a plan set in stone, but it was something to consider, and that was enough for Riza.

"Maybe we will."


End file.
